


Left Unsaid

by thedevilchicken



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Content, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 11:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15267030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: "I hate you," Yuri says, and Victor smiles at him cheerfully.





	Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritoftruthandlies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritoftruthandlies/gifts).



"I hate you," Yuri says. 

Victor smiles at him cheerfully. "No you don't," he replies, sounding totally sure of that fact, and Yuri scowls as he lets his hair hang forward over his eyes, like making it harder to see Victor's dumb fucking grin will make it easier to pretend he's not there and not fucking infuriating. The problem is: Victor leans forward as he's kneeling there in front of him, and he pushes Yuri's hair back behind both his ears for him, like maybe blocking him out of view was an accident. When Yuri glares at him in response, his eyes all narrowed and scrunchy, he knows Victor's won. Or something like it, at least. 

"How do you know I don't hate you?" Yuri asks, hotly, petulant about it, but that's fine because that's exactly the tone he's going for. "Maybe I hate your fucking guts, Victor. Did you every think about that?" 

Victor tsks and shakes his head sadly almost like he disapproves, his hair swishing against his forehead, but Yuri knows he doesn't really mean it. If Victor's not used to the things he says by now, Yuri thinks he never will be.

"Language," Victor says. "What would Yakov say?"

"Yakov's not here," Yuri snaps. 

"I can call him, if you like." 

Victor reaches for his phone that's sitting on the bed at Yuri's hip, and Yuri slaps his hand away. 

"Screw that," he says. 

" _Language_."

"Screw _you_."

Victor tilts his head and he looks at him, still on his knees between Yuri's thighs. He looks at him and he says, infuriatingly genuinely: "Isn't that why I'm here?"

Yuri shrugs. He guesses he's right, which explains why they're naked right now, as much as he hates to admit when Victor's right even if he knows he won't shut up if Victor's wrong. They're both naked except for Yuri's skates, that is, that Victor went down on his knees at the end of the bed to tie for him, as if they were at the rink and he was actually going to skate that way. He did it while Yuri sighed and sighed and sighed like he was pissed off and kinda bored at the same time, and he played with Victor's hair and Victor pretended not to notice that. They've got boundaries they don't let themselves overstep. Usually. Not often, at least, and they sure as hell don't talk about it.

Now, Yuri stands. Victor rocks back on his heels and he stands himself up, too, right in front of him, really close. Victor is barefoot on the carpet and okay, so Victor's still taller than him even with Yuri in his skates with the blade guards on them, but he doesn't seem _as_ tall and Yuri thinks maybe that's the point of all this. Victor's never cared that Yuri's smaller or that he's probably never going to be much taller, but Yuri guesses there's a few things that might just be a bit easier with a few extra inches' height on him. 

He twists his fingers into Victor's hair and he walks him back till his bare ass hits the edge of the shitty hotel room desk. He pushes and pulls and he turns him around and he bends him over it. He nudges Victor's ankles apart with the toe of one really damn well-laced skate. Victor obliges. And when Yuri steps aside to rummage through his case, and when he steps back in with a tube of lube clutched in one hand, and when he slicks himself and wonders where he's going to wipe the excess lube off his hand and he steps in close, when he thumbs the head of his cock down against Victor's hole, he's got to admit the extra height from the skates _really_ helps.

As he pushes into him, Yuri thinks sometimes he really does hate Victor. Okay, so it's hard to when he's watching Victor's asshole stretch to take him in and he's groaning like this is the set of a weird skating-themed porno and not just Yuri's hotel room two days before Worlds start. He pushes in, halting and pulling back and pushing in again with the angle corrected, and he spreads Victor's cheeks with his palms to shove in deep. His hands move up and he rakes Victor's back with his nails and makes him hiss with it just to see the bright pink lines he leaves behind. He grips his hips. He moves his own. Victor mutters something filthy against the desk and pushes back to meet him. 

Sometimes he thinks he really does hate him because afterwards, he never stays. But, then again, he's never asked him to.

Yuri pulls out suddenly 'cause he's suddenly pissed off and Victor looks back at him over his shoulder with his brows raised quizzically, which Yuri fucking hates because he looks so nonchalant even with his cheeks all pink. He huffs and he walks away and he points to the bed and so Victor lies down, stretches out on his back because apparently he's feeling compliant for once and Yuri thinks what the hell and climbs on top. He straddles Victor's hips and he slicks Victor's cock and he rubs it in between his cheeks, giving him a dirty look the whole time because Victor looks so fucking _cheerful_ still. He pushes down on him, feels Victor's cock up inside himself, feels the heat of the friction as it opens him up. He rocks his hips. Victor's hands come up to his waist. He bites his lip.

When he moves, he kinda wishes the blade guards were off his skates so the toepicks could tear up the fucking sheets and rip into the shitty mattress underneath. He leans back, hooking his fingers under the heels of both boots, arching his back as he rocks his hips and fucks himself on Victor's cock. Victor trails one hand down from Yuri's throat down his chest and his bowed abdomen, right down to the base of his cock, and Yuri shivers as Victor's long fingers trail down, wrap around him, start to stroke. His muscles feel tight the way they do when he's been training really hard and can't find anyone around to help him with a massage, though okay so Victor usually does. He's really good at it, even if sometimes it ends in both of them naked and Yuri's calves hooked over Victor's shoulders as they fuck. Yuri grudgingly admits that even that helps with the muscle soreness.

Yuri fucks himself on Victor's cock. He spreads his knees wide and he legs his head drop back and he rides him, hard, while Victor strokes him. The first time, Yuri didn't even really mean it, not at the start - Victor wandered in while he was in the shower and when he got out, he caught him looking, said something flippant about knowing he was pretty but what the fuck, old man, did he want to suck his cock? He remembers how Victor looked him up and down as he started to undress himself. He remembers Victor's infuriating smile. And then the next thing he'd known, Victor had gone down on his knees like an invitation, and Yuri took him up on it. 

The second time, he meant it. It was two days later and Victor had just scored higher than him - than everyone, really - and Yuri hammered on his door till he let him in. Victor was naked because apparently he liked to sleep that way and didn't tell him it was too late as he pushed in past him. He just let Yuri push him up against the nearest wall, shove down his own pants and rub their cocks together till they both came. Then Yuri left. Victor didn't ask him to stay.

They screwed for the first time three days later, back home, in the changing room after training; they did it face to face, Yuri's back to the wall, Yuri's legs around Victor's waist. They did it again the next day, in Victor's apartment. They did it again the next day, after Yuri's ballet class at Lilia's place, their clothes shoved out of the way, while she was making tea. They did it again four days after that, on the road, in Yuri's hotel room. It hasn't stopped, though Yuri's pretty sure it should've. After all, half the time he's not sure if he wants to kiss Victor or kick his ancient ass.

He fucks himself on Victor's cock and he feels his muscles tighten and his breath turn quick though he should have more stamina than this. He feels himself tense and he feels Victor tense and Victor's hand on his cock starts to lose its rhythm and Victor's hips push him up to meet him turn snappy and hard. Victor groans. Victor bucks up hard and he comes in him, and Yuri can feel it, Victor's free hand squeezing hard at his hip, Victor's cock spilling inside him. He maybe comes from that himself, from how hard Victor comes, or maybe it's just that it feels really good, but either way, he empties himself over Victor's chest as he pants like he's not trained in six months. He has. He's at the rink every day. They don't do this as often as that, though, so he guesses maybe he has an excuse.

He sighs. He climbs off and stretches out on the hotel bed on his back, his skates lolling out to the sides against the mattress, so he sits himself up with a groan to unlace them and drop them down onto the floor. Sometimes, he thinks he really does hate Victor, because he didn't go looking for any of this. And okay so sometimes it's convenient 'cause he's right there most of the time, and he's not the most unbearable person Yuri knows, but fuck. He's Victor Nikiforov, how can this end well? Does Yuri even want it to? Does he know what he wants at all, except another gold medal, and another, and one after that?

Yuri frowns. He rubs his face with both hands. He closes his eyes. There's boundaries they don't let themselves overstep, and he's so close to one right now.

"You can stay, if you want," he says, with his heart in his throat. And then there's a silent pause while his stomach sinks, except then Victor reaches over and he turns out the light.

Victor doesn't say _I told you so_. Yuri doesn't say _okay, sure, you're right_. He doesn't say anything at all, because sometimes it's better not to.

He wraps his fingers around Victor's wrist instead. And he thinks maybe he knows what he wants after all.


End file.
